


due dates and due dates

by rathalos, woofio



Series: college au [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Multi, No Mafia, Nonbinary Mammon | Viper, angst? drama? no. only fluff. extremely self indulgent, college au but reborn is still a serial killer, colonnello and lal are STILL the cutest couple, everyone is stupid, feel-good fic, in this house we are all in love with lal, in which you cannot leave skull alone, lal is tired, poly!arcobaleno, the college au we all deserve, they keep fon around to carry heavy things, verde is the campus cryptid, viper wants to be a sugar baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathalos/pseuds/rathalos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/woofio/pseuds/woofio
Summary: Lal is surrounded by idiots. Unfortunately, they'reheridiots.What did she do to deserve this?
Relationships: Arcobaleno/Arcobaleno (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)
Series: college au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016811
Comments: 32
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i...needed to get this out of my system
> 
> arcobaleno x happiness is all i ever wanted and it's the khr canon we deserved :(

When Lal was a little girl, she had dreamed of becoming a military sergeant, just like her father and grandfather before her. There had been no tea parties or play-pretend princess dress up. Instead, those were replaced by fond memories of practicing running drills and doing 'surprise wilderness training' in the middle of the woods. Lal had been fully prepared to jump headfirst into the military and never look back. Frankly, she hadn’t ever anticipated her life turning out like this.

“Fucking hell,” she grumbled under her breath, dropping her overnight bag in the entryway and reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. The apartment was an utter _mess_. Bowls upon bowls lined nearly every available surface of the apartment. Empty chip bags and cans of sodas had been left strewn about, tauntingly calling out to Lal from where they laid on top of dirty laundry. It stunk of popcorn and…something burned?

Shit.

Ignoring everything else (despite how much she wanted to cry at the sight of the mess), Lal made a beeline to the kitchen, dreading whatever was waiting for her around the corner. They had only left Skull alone for a weekend! How the hell had he managed this?

The kitchen was largely fine. Dishes were piled up in the sink (expected) and the counters looked like they hadn't been wiped in a month (also expected), but the crux of the issue laid in sight of the pitch black, suspiciously toasted stove waiting for her. Of course. Of _course_ he would ignore every instruction she gave him and _touched the kitchen appliances_. Lal wanted to crouch down and mourn the loss of Colonnello's delicious meals (they were going to have to eat take-out for awhile), but she had a scolding to give.

“ _Skull!_ ” she yelled at the top of her lungs, making sure that her crossness was fully conveyed to ensure a prompt response from the guilty party. God forbid she was able to come back from a trip and relax. Instead, her life revolved around cleaning up the messes her partners left for her. They would all probably be dead without her.

She heard Reborn begin to argue with Colonnello and...was he throttling him?

That was definitely the sound of Verde and Fon placing bets—Viper's pleased chuckles couldn't be caused by anything else.

Scratch that, they would all _definitely_ be dead without her. A thankless job if she’d ever seen one.

“Oooh~! Skull’s in trou~ble~!”

If Reborn didn’t watch his mouth, he’d be next.

Skull, oddly enough, didn’t answer. Ignoring her was a role usually reserved for Viper (who acted like a moody teen half the time)—Skull was much more obedient and responsive. The only one who had him beat in those categories was Colonnello, who snapped to attention whenever she spoke with all the devotion of a cattle dog and always fixed her with love-sodden doe eyes. It was disgustingly cute and made her heart melt regardless of how mad she was.

“He’s in here,” Fon called, voice slightly muffled through the walls. Of course he was the only one to help her out. Verde was likely already absorbed back into whatever was on his computer screen, Viper thought it was funny to ignore her, and Reborn and Colonnello were probably making out on the sofa by this point.

Fon was her favorite boyfriend…no question about it. He was clearly the only one who cared about her blood pressure.

With a heavy sigh, Lal turned and headed for Fon’s voice, smacking the back of Reborn's head as she passed. She refused to feel sorry when he sent an offended noise her way, pulling back from Colonnello's lips—he needed to learn the meaning of self-restraint and Colonnello was looking kind of purple already. Fon was leaned up against the bathroom’s doorframe waiting for her, smiling pleasantly to the background music of Skull sobbing.

A quick peak inside revealed Skull, sitting fully clothed in the bathtub and soaked to the bone. His typically immaculate makeup was smeared all over and highlighted by his swollen, tear-filled eyes. He looked more like Reborn had worked him over than anything else.

“Skull,” Lal sighed heavily, rubbing her temples to soothe her building migraine. She had assignments due at midnight, but instead she had to deal with this. Why her? “What’s going on?”

The bright-eyed look Skull sent her way when he heard her voice made it all worth it.

“Lal! You're back!” he cheered, excitedly leaning towards her with that cute little grin that he _knew_ made them all want to take pictures, tears mysteriously gone. The little brat had probably thinking about how much he loved them all, or something equally as sappy. “I was just taking a bath!”

“Mhm. And the stove?”

“Totally wasn’t my fault!”

Skull was the worst liar out of all of them. His lips always twisted up into a pout and he glanced off to side with a shifty look.

“You were the _only one home_ ,” Lal stressed, eye threatening to twitch. Fon—the gorgeous man that he was—automatically leaned into her, squishing her up against the doorframe and resting his head on her shoulders. She wanted to punch him for the way he had to hunch down to do it, but the cold fingers slipping under her waistband to warm up kept her from exacting justice. She was too weak-willed…maybe she should go back to the military for a refresher.

Skull pouted at her (Christ, he was unfairly pretty) before cheerily holding up the rubber duck he’d been pretending to drown in the bath and completely ignoring what she was saying. Of course. She never got any respect around here. “Look! It’s Viper!”

The duck was pretty cute—purple, small, and it made noise when Skull squeezed it. Skull had evidently painted the little triangles on its cheeks himself. It would explain his pride and the way he was staring up at her with expectant eyes, clearly waiting for her to praise all of his hard work. The little brat.

As if they’d been summoned, Viper’s uncovered head shoved its way around the mass of Fon-and-Lal to look into the bathroom, hair artfully mussed from being trapped under their cloak all day. “You got it all wrong,” they sniffed, delicately stepping inside to crouch down and take the duck into their hands to get a better look at Skull’s latest ‘this-probably-could-be-offensive-but-you’re-cute-so-it’s-okay’ creation.

“Hm? Where?” Skull asked, brow scrunched up and looking at the rubber duck and Viper like it was one of those 'find the differences between these two images' games.

“The color is absolutely off,” Viper scoffed judgmentally, holding their hair up to the duck to display the color difference. “See? It’s a totally different shade.”

“But it’s purple?” Skull asked, blinking wide eyes up at Viper with genuine confusion. Lal groaned on instinct.

Fon huffed a laugh into Lal’s neck, sending goosebumps shivering down her arms just as an infuriated noise left Viper, as shrill and angry as a tea pot. “For the last damn time!” they snapped, throwing the duck at Skull’s head and shoving themselves to their feet, spinning around to storm out of the bathroom. “It’s fucking _indigo_!”

“ _It’s fucking indigo_ ,” Lal heard Renato’s mocking, bitchy voice ring through the apartment. “It’s purple, Viper! It’s time for you to accept the truth and stop lying to yourself. It can't be good for your complexion.”

“Maybe when you stop sleeping in the damn walls!”

Viper’s door slammed shut hard enough to send vibrations through the floor—but maybe that was just Fon trembling against her, desperately trying to restrain his laughter. Lal coughed roughly to disguise her own amusement, smiling to herself when she heard Colonnello trailing after their partner and slipping into their room. He'd calm them down without much of a problem. Lal would probably find them napping together later on and then laugh at them when they were unable to sleep that night. Maybe they could keep Verde company.

“What’d I say?” Skull asked, looking so pitifully confused that Lal couldn’t help but step forward to card through his hair with a smile, ignoring Fon’s offended noise when she left his arms. He could go and curl up with Verde if he wanted to cuddle so bad—heavens knew the other man needed it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lal reassured Skull. Life was always easier when he didn't think too hard. Skull grinned up at her in response, but it quickly turned into a pained grimace and a loud whine when Lal seized his ear lobe with harsh, merciless fingers. “Now. _About that stove_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI. CAN YOU TELL I LOVE LAL

Lal’s eyes didn’t want to open.

She knew she needed to get out of bed and move around so that she could get back to sleep—a thousand restless itches just under the surface of her skin, each one demanding to be scratched in a different way—but her body was reluctant to obey her will.

Her short stint in the military ensured that, at one point, she used to be able to wake up at 0500 hours every morning with enough coherence to at least fake alertness. It had been a while, though, and her life had lost the routine that defined it for years. She wasn’t complaining, but sometimes—like now, waking up during what she was sure was the middle of the night—it was frustrating.

With great concentration, she forced herself to look at the face of the alarm clock on the nightstand. It took her a little while to read it, owing to the eye-burning blue display, but eventually her vision adjusted. The clock read _2:28._

She and Verde were probably the only ones awake right now.

Viper always went to bed ridiculously early, and tonight Fon had followed them to their room, clutching at Viper like a koala as they struggled to keep upright under his weight. Reborn’s sleeping habits were a mystery to everyone, but Lal could say with some confidence that he was probably not awake right now. Skull liked to stay up until about midnight or so, but when he slept he slept like the dead; that was to say, nothing short of his criminally loud alarm clock would wake him up again.

Colonnello she knew to be sleeping, because Lal was in bed with him. His legs were tangled up in hers so thoroughly she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began, and his arm was thrown over her waist, settling as a comforting weight on her stomach.

She must have kicked the blanket off the two of them during her sleep. It was smushed up against the foot of the bed, slightly tickling the ends of her feet and making Lal wish she didn’t flail so much when she slept.

She was _really_ fucking cold.

Lal ran cool even on a warm day, but now that it was the middle of January, the height of winter, she especially needed to remember to wrap herself in layers of warm clothes. Tonight she had made the mistake of sleeping in nothing but a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, which she was paying the price for now.

Colonnello tended to be the same way. It made him a great cuddler during the warm spring months and summer, but as soon as September rolled over into October, ‘Nello’s wardrobe seemed to magically turn over into nothing but soft, fluffy hoodies.

Lal liked to snuggle up inside his clothes with him; he always bought three sizes too big for that exact purpose.

Quietly, gently, Lal pulled herself away from Colonnello and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She winced when her bare feet touched the smooth wooden floor of her and Colonnello’s bedroom. It felt like ice—evidently someone had forgotten to turn the thermostat on. Reborn usually went around each night and made sure the temperature was set exactly to his liking, but even he slipped up occasionally.

Colonnello shifted in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, and he reached out with one arm toward the space in the bed she had occupied. Her will nearly broke then and there. She wanted to crawl back into bed and wrap herself around him, cover herself in every single bit of him she could reach, even if it meant she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep until five or even six in the morning.

The prospect was almost worth it—almost. Lal held strong.

She sat perched on the edge of the bed for a moment, watching the rise and fall of Colonnello’s chest. He wasn’t as loud as Skull or as chaotic as Reborn, but Lal wouldn’t describe him as calm either, so it was somewhat of a blessing to see him so tranquil and unmoving.

When she finished drinking in the sight of him, Lal and stood and stretched. The motions didn’t help much to relieve the restless energy she thrummed with, but it was better than nothing.

Colonnello rolled over again and Lal took pity on him, reaching over to pull the blanket up and over his body and tucking it against his chin. For a moment it seemed as though he would wake, and she would be truly unable to resist his pull, but after a short while Colonnello’s breathing evened out and he relaxed back under the covers.

Lal pressed a kiss to his forehead and got up to change clothes.

Her favorite sweater of Colonnello’s was waiting for her in the top drawer of his dresser. She threw it on over her shirt, shivering a little when the cool fabric came in contact with her arms. Lal knew it would warm up eventually, but she was impatient. 

She had to dig around in her own dresser for pants. Any of Colonnello’s were as long as her own legs and then nearly half again, so they were completely out of the question.

Her scarf—knitted for her birthday by Viper—hung on a clothes hook near the doorway. It was deep red, longer than she was tall, and about thirty centimeters wide, so she had to fold it over on itself and wrap it about ten times around her neck before it was tight enough to be considered wearable. She adored it.

After Lal felt she was sufficiently bundled up, she exited their room and took a right.

Verde’s room was closest to the living room, which was convenient because it made dragging him out of bed in the mornings less of a chore. Fon could easily get him up and awake, and lead him to one of the couches in the living room, where he would sit, blinking his eyes sleepily, until he remembered that as a human being, he needed to eat—and that as a student, he needed to get ready for his 7:00 class.

Lal approached his door as quietly as she could and knocked softly. She heard a softly-muttered curse, followed by the sound of something small hitting the floor.

“Come in,” Verde said. His voice came out fairly clear; the doors here seemed nearly paper-thin, with how little sound they blocked.

Lal turned the doorknob and pushed, making sure only to let the door get halfway open before she slipped inside the room. There was a particular method needed to open it the rest of the way to prevent it from screaming on its hinges, and Lal wasn’t sure she was awake enough to do that.

“Did I interrupt you?” Lal asked, drawing up alongside him and resting her hands on his shoulders. They felt tense. Maybe he would let her give him a massage later. “Sorry.”

“Everything interrupts me,” Verde said honestly, catching her eye and smiling. “I don’t mind you.”

“That’s unexpectedly sweet of you, Verde,” Lal teased. He looked away, embarrassed, probably, and she laughed—soft, voiceless chuckles, because she didn’t want to wake everyone up and have them come crash in on her fun. These hours of the night were reserved specifically for Verde; when she couldn’t sleep, she sought him out. “Let me get your scarf. We’re going out.”

Verde obligingly rose from his office chair and waited as she retrieved his scarf from the floor. It was also hand-made by Viper, and looked like Lal’s except for its color—Verde’s was a dark, muddy green, shot through occasionally by yellow-green streaks.

Lal wound it around his shoulders, looping it over and over until there was just enough of it left to rest against his chest, and then she and Verde snuck out of his room and past the living room, pausing for just long enough for Lal to scoop one of their many sets of house keys out of the glass bowl on the credenza.

“So what are you working on for this class?” Lal asked, crouching to tie her boots on. It had snowed lightly during the evening, and by this time the ground would be covered in slush. Wearing anything other than boots was just asking for a miserable time. “Anything interesting?”

She couldn’t see Verde’s face, but she could pinpoint the exact moment he lit up.

Verde wasted no time. At once, he started to ramble in hushed tones about the newest class he was taking. When he talked, he used his hands: to gesture, to to play with the ends of his sleeves, to clench and unclench his fists if he couldn’t convey everything he wanted to say in just words alone.

This meant he was temporarily distracted from tying up his own boots. Instead of waiting on him, Lal took the opportunity to tie his boots for him while he explained to her exactly what a resonance structure was.

He was currently majoring in organic chemistry, wasn’t he? Lal admitted it flew over her head somewhat, but she loved to hear him talk his about his classes.

“The homework is fairly easy,” Verde said, following her out the door and waiting for her while she locked it. “But it’s fun. I like it.”

“That’s good,” Lal said. “Your last major sucked.”

As the two of them started for the stairs to the ground floor—which, thankfully, were covered by a generous awning that kept the snow off them—Verde said, “I have never been and am never going to be a firefighter. Reborn chose that program because he hates me.”

When the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs, Lal took Verde’s hand in her own.

“For the cold,” Lal explained, shoving her other hand into her sweater pocket.

They walked mostly in silence. The early hours just after midnight transformed the street she lived on into a completely different place. The icy slush on the ground crunched oddly underfoot, and it was so quiet even the sound of her and Verde breathing was loud. There was a sancity in the silence that Lal dared not break.

Every so often they passed under the streetlights scattered about the lane. Under the light, it was even more obvious when her breath fogged up with each exhale. Her cheeks and nose were stinging from the still night air, but her hand was warm where it was entwined with Verde’s.

The restlessness that had prompted Lal out of bed in the first place was beginning to leave now; she was warming up, and she believed she could begin to get sleepy if she lied down.

“Wanna head back?” Lal asked. Verde turned to look at her, tilting his head, and she pulled her scarf down from her mouth to repeat the question. Or, she would have, if her brain-to-mouth filter had been working properly. What came out instead was, “Wanna kiss?”

Verde smiled at her. “I do, actually.”

He leaned down toward her, and on instinct Lal’s eyes fluttered shut. What came to her was not a kiss on the lips as she had been expecting, but a gentle peck on the bridge of her nose.

Lal scrunched her nose up and leveled Verde with an unimpressed look. “What was that?” she asked.

“You looked cold,” Verde offered, and then he did it again. And again. And again. And Lal let him.

He moved onto covering her cold-flushed cheeks with kisses until she was breathless with laughter and embarrassed delight. Lal ended up having clung to him to keep from falling down as he showered her in affection, and finally, under the softly-glowing light of a flickering streetlamp, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her for real.

Lal was still cold. Her sweater was slightly too thin and Verde had unwound her scarf just a little to gain access to her face, which meant the lower half of her face and her neck were exposed to the chilly night air. It wasn’t ideal, and she would have to drink about a gallon of hot chocolate to make up for this later, but for this little while—for this indeterminate amount of time, spent standing here and kissing Verde—she could ignore it.


	3. hearts and diamonds and spades and clubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone say "thank you falterth" for editing my shitty grammar into something fit for public consumption

Deep bass thrummed through Lal, loud enough that she swore her bones were rattling. Skull was hanging off her arm, shivering in excitement. The only thing holding him back from disappearing into the crowd was the hand Fon had wrapped around his bicep. The purple-haired brat lived for this sort of thing—dressing up (or rather, dressing down) and losing himself in the vibrant energy and hedonistic behavior. 

On the other hand, Lal could swear she saw Verde breaking out into hives from the corner of her eyes. Colonnello was cheerfully holding Viper and Verde’s hands hostage, swinging them back and forth with a pleased little grin. In contrast, Viper was staring straight ahead, neck stiff and gaze dead enough that it looked like they were being unwillingly dragged to their execution. 

Reborn was sauntering his way in at the back of the group, hands in his pockets, shoulders artfully slumped, and sultry, lined eyes (courtesy of Skull) already scanning the room. He was either looking for someone to mess with, someone to kill, or someone to kiss—possibly a combination of the three. Even after all these years, Lal couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in that man’s head. Even so, that glint in his eyes meant _nothing_ good. 

More perturbing were the admiring looks the far too-handsome man was already receiving from men and women alike. How anybody wore a fedora in this day and age and still got laid escaped Lal’s comprehension, but she would be a hypocrite if she claimed it was ugly.

Readjusting her grip on Skull—who whined at his thwarted attempts to wriggle away—Lal strong-armed her way through the crowd with bared teeth to claim a booth whose occupants had conveniently left as soon as they caught sight of her. Skull got shoved in first, followed by Fon and then a frankly unhappy Verde. Viper ducked into the other side, nestling themselves against the wall. Colonnello quickly scooted in next to them, throwing an arm over their shoulder to help block out some of the noise. Lal collapsed next to him, pinching her nose and somehow already exhausted.

Reborn had disappeared about ten steps into the building—unsurprising. She could see the top of his hat as he wove through the crowd, winking freely and flirting, unabashed—irritating.

“ _Lal_ ,” Skull whined loudly from where he was crushed up against Fon, “He’s ruining my _hair_! Make him _stop_!” Fon grinned smugly, then leaned down to mess up Skull’s lipstick too.

“For fuck’s sake,” Lal sighed heavily, tired of trying to keep Skull from getting kidnapped by strange men with promises of a good time. Seeing the opportunity to knock out two birds with one stone, she ground out an irritated: “Just go. Reborn’s somewhere in that mess. Find him and stay with him.” 

Skull pulled away from Fon with a wet pop and a cheer, diving forward to crawl over Fon and Verde’s laps to escape his prison. Lal chose not to comment on the sharp, bony elbows that were pointedly shoved into sensitive areas as he crawled, but Fon took it like a champ with a satisfied smile, likely due to the previously immaculate purple lipstick smeared across Skull’s lips. Skull ducked down to plant a cheery kiss on Lal’s cheekbone before falling into the crowd, melting into the crowd as though he belonged there and not hanging off of one of their arms. Maybe it was the mesh top.

“You tried,” Colonnello chucked in her ear, voice deep enough to send a shiver dancing down her spine.

“Reborn needed some mosquito repellant,” Lal muttered back, leaning into her boyfriend’s side. He laughed at her, sliding his hand into hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You’re feeling cruel tonight,” he laughed, eyes going half lidded...what a brat. He was into it. “I’m pretty sure that releasing Skull on these poor folk is equivalent to letting the coyote into the chicken run.”

“God, Colonnello,” Viper muttered, leaning heavily into the blonde’s other side, “Stop being such a redneck. You’re ruining my vibe.”

“Stop being such a redneck,” Colonnello imitated in a mocking, high-pitched voice, but obligingly leaned down to kiss Viper. Some days Lal wondered if he had ever aged past seven. (It was looking to be pretty unlikely.)

She chanced a glance at the crowd of dancing bodies, easily zeroing in on the shock of purple hair tightly clinging to their wayward boyfriend. Skull looked…well, pouty, but in a totally bitchy, only-seen-in-cosmetology-students sort of way. 

Reborn was smirking like he had gotten the cat, cream, _and_ the canary all in one fell sweep. He whispered something taunting into Skull’s ear that visibly aggravated him. Scowling even harder, Skull yanked Reborn down by the collar until his mouth was close enough to press biting, angry kisses against. Reborn grinned into it, straightening up enough that Skull had to reach up uncomfortably on his toes just to maintain contact.

Ugh.

Fon was watching with a sly grin. The brat was probably pretty pleased that he was the first one to mess up Skull’s make-up. Lal didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’d watched Colonnello completely destroy Skull’s first attempt, then listened to Viper kiss off the second, and then herself tugging at Skull’s unfairly attractive lip chain until he cried all of his mascara off.

It was a bit out of character, but Lal couldn’t deny the satisfaction that came from watching Skull cry. (Ew, she was starting to sound like Reborn. Gross!)

Skull had proceeded to lock himself in his room to protect his fourth and final attempt at looking presentable. 

When she looked back at the pair, they had migrated to the wall and were being avoided by most of the patrons who were just trying to use the restroom (Lal couldn’t hold it against the people who cast shy glances at the far-too-pretty sight, but she jealously wanted to keep the sight out of public consumption).

“I’m going to go and break those idiots up before they get undressed,” Lal sighed, pushing herself to her feet. She stuck to the edges of the crowd, ignoring calls for her attention and fools who thought they could tempt her with promises of free drinks. Honestly, she wasn’t _Viper_.

Lal pulled Skull off Reborn’s neck with an unimpressed, raised eyebrow. Reborn smiled charmingly up at her even as Skull whined about not being able to finish. “I can’t take you people anywhere,” Lal huffed. “Skull, he looks like a wild wombat attacked him. I think he’s good.”

Skull looked everything other than scolded at that. Well, that was understating it. The little brat looked utterly pleased at the mess he’d made of Reborn’s neck, purpling bruises climbing like roses up a wall. Colonnello leaned up against the wall next to Lal, grinning mockingly at Reborn.

“Got some new pretty jewelry there?”

“Hm...jealous? I’m not really inclined to share.”

Lal slapped the wall between them before yet another sexually tense argument dissolved into a very public make-out. “You’re all voyeurs,” she laughed in slight disbelief, “Every last one of you.”

“That’s a bit unfair,” Colonnello pointed out, gesturing back to the booth as if that would prove his point. Lal glanced over, far from shocked when all she saw was Fon, happily seated in Verde’s lap and feeding him—were those mozzarella sticks? Lal wanted to cry. Verde was lactose intolerant.

Viper was nowhere to be seen.

She turned back around, quickly deciding that she hadn’t witnessed any of it. They were all adults and could make their own decisions. “Yes, and?”

“Okay, I’ll admit that nothing about that helped me out here,” Colonnello admitted. Good man, he knew when to give up.

“Great job, Nello,” Reborn purred, tilting his head back to expose the bruised, swollen lines of his throat. “Why don’t you give up on talking since that clearly isn’t working out for you and put your mouth to better use?”

“Oh my god. Please stop. We’re in public,” Lal groaned. She shoved Skull into Colonnello’s arms, stepping forward to yank Reborn off the wall by his tie. “Just…keep the...ugh... _coyote_ busy.” Maybe, just _maybe_ , if she phrased it in her boyfriend’s confusing terms, he would finally reach comprehension. Enlightenment? Was that the correct term to use there? 

Oh god. His stupidity was contagious.

She didn’t have much time to think about it too hard. Reborn was clearly aching to mess with _someone_ and all of their other partners were too weak-willed. She would take the bullet and resolve the situation herself. What a pain.

(Well, that’s what she would tell herself.)

It was easy enough to slip into the lascivious ebb and flow of club dancing. Even though it had been a while, Lal’s body remembered how to move along to the beat. Verde and Skull refused to believe her when she told them that she had been a wild partier in her teenage years—she was certainly no stranger to clubbing.

Reborn grinned back at her. For a moment, she felt like she was sixteen again and staring at the face of the idiotic asshole who had hit her boyfriend with his car. She blinked again, and Reborn was pressed against her—twenty-two, grinning against her lips, and wholly theirs.

Ah. She really couldn’t give this moment up for all the luxury in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wordlessly, Lal hits the speakerphone button.
> 
> “Skull. Tell me again so I can be sure I haven’t died and gone to hell. What. Are you and Fon. Doing.”
> 
> “ . . . The laundry?” he says, timid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn. a username change? from me? for the first time since i joined this goddamn website? yeah. anyways im not falterth anymore im rathalos because i couldnt resist

“Oh, crap.” Lal pushes her laptop away from herself, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“Lal?” Colonnello asks, from where he’s sprawled out on the opposite couch. “What’s up?”

“I forgot about the laundry when we were redistributing Reborn’s chores,” she says, leaning backwards until her head is resting against the rough fabric of her favorite recliner. “Skull is out of the house and I don’t particularly want to lug a giant bin of our dirty clothes to the laundromat on foot . . . ugh.”

She sighs.

“Whatever. I’m finished with my homework anyway,” she says, setting her computer down on the end table. “I’ll call Skull and see if he’s busy. I think he went out with Fon.”

“Tell him ‘I love you’ for me,” Colonnello says. Lal rolls her eyes. “Pleeeease?”

“Fine, fine,” Lal says, pulling her phone out and dialing Skull.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Skull. Think you can interrupt your date with Fon for a while? It’s kind of an emergency,” Lal says.

“Wh—emergency!?” Skull asks, alarmed. Something rustles from the other end of the phone. “What’s happening?”

“No, no, not a ‘someone’s hurt’ emergency,” Lal clarifies, feeling a smile come to her face unbidden. “More like a ‘I forgot to assign laundry duties before Reborn’s . . . business trip . . . and I need you to come pick me up and take me to the laundromat’ kind of emergency.”

“Oh!” Skull says, voice bright and cheery and full of relief. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Fon and I are at the laundromat right now! He must have noticed before you did. Anyway, we’ll probably be home in an hour. Do you want us to stop by anywhere before we come home?”

“You and Fon are _what now?_ ” Lal asks, paling. Time seems to slow down for her; from across the room Colonnello is giving her a confused look but the only thing running through Lal’s head is an endless, silent scream. “Please, please don’t tell me you just said he’s doing the laundry.”

“Yep! Why? Was he not supposed to?” Skull asks.

Wordlessly, Lal hits the speakerphone button.

“Skull. Tell me again so I can be sure I haven’t died and gone to hell. What. Are you and Fon. _Doing._ ”

“ . . . The laundry?” he says, timid.

Colonnello guffaws. “Oh my god—”

“Not now,” Lal hisses, while Colonnello dies of laughter. She pinches the bridge of her nose, already feeling the stress-induced headache that’s about to slam into her like a freight train. “Just for the record, Skull, I’m not blaming you for this. The thing with Fon went down a couple months before you joined our relationship.”

“Um, please, explain?” Skull requests. “Fon is trying to run away and I’m holding him down and _losing_ so I’d really really like to know what’s going on!”

“Fon used to be in charge of the laundry. Fon is shit at laundry. Fon is no longer in charge of the laundry,” Lal summarizes. “Tell Fon I told him to stay put or I’m siccing ‘Nello on him for the rest of the week.”

That only makes Colonnello cackle even harder; he’s clutching his side now and Lal is almost certain he’s doing this just to be theatrical.

“‘Kay.” Skull’s end of the line goes silent for a moment, save for the sounds of a muted tussle, before Skull gets back to her. “He’s staying! But . . . you know what, here. Talk to him.”

“Sure. But hold on. ‘Nello told me to tell you he loves you,” Lal says, glaring at Collonnelo, who’s breathlessly giggling to himself. “And I love you too.”

“Aww!” Skull exclaims happily. “I love you guys too! Okay, I’m giving Fon the phone now.”

“Hello, Lal,” Fon says. Before Lal can begin to tear into him, he continues with, “Don’t worry about the laundry. I’ve improved since last time.”

Considering Fon has been banned from laundry duty for over a year, she finds that difficult to believe.

“Oh, really, now? Did you remember to do our laundry in separate loads?” Lal asks skeptically. “Or did you just lump all our clothes in together and hope for the best?”

“ . . . ”

“I’m going to assume you decimated Viper’s silk. And Skull’s leather, for that matter. Did he see you tossing those into the washing machine? No, he wouldn’t have, or else he’d have called me crying about it.”

“ . . . ”

“I don’t even want to think about what you’ve done to my bras.”

“ . . . ”

“I can hear Skull in the background, Fon. I know you aren’t dead.”

“What if I was?” Fon asks curiously.

“ _Fon._ You know what? Just . . . just get home soon and we’ll sort through what’s been ruined. God, I can’t even be mad at you.” Lal considers that for a moment. “Okay, I won’t go that far. I need to see the damage before I make my judgement call. But I still love you.”

She can practically _hear_ Fon smile from the other end of the line, before he hangs up on her.

Damn him for being so lovable.

While she’s on that train of thought, damn Colonnello, too, for laughing himself silly at her expense.

(And also for being so lovable, because the longer she looks at him, the more she wants to laugh too, though nothing about this situation is even _remotely_ funny.)

Somewhere down the hall, a door slams open.

“What the hell is going on?” Viper demands, emerging from the room they share with Fon. As soon as they step out into the living room, their expression morphs into one of extreme distaste. “Why is ‘Nello doing a dolphin impression on the floor? Am I missing something?”

Immediately, Lal holds her arms open. Viper huffs in offense (probably at the fact that Lal is requesting something so mundane as physical contact—oh, the horror) but leans down for a hug anyway, and she tugs them down onto her armchair with her, setting her chin on their shoulder and wrapping her arms around their waist.

“Skull took Fon to do the laundry,” she says, closing her eyes and exhaling heavily. “They’re going to be home in an hour and our clothes all got mixed in together. It’s going to be hell sorting them out and anything that was white is most likely . . . not.”

Viper snorts. “Not my problem. I don’t own any white clothes.”

“Of course not,” Lal says. Viper wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but black or purple—excuse her, _indigo._ (And green, but the only thing they wear in that color is the _Inhale, Excel_ hoodie Colonnello had jokingly gotten them for their birthday.) “But any silk you had is probably permanently—”

“MY SILK?” Viper shouts, making a strangled noise in the back of their throat. They thrash around in Lal’s grip, but she holds them tight to her. “Lal, let go of me! I have to go strangle Fon, _now_!”

“You’d run an entire mile just to take revenge for your favorite shirt?” Lal asks.

“Yes!” Viper insists, struggling to get away from Lal. “It’s okay, Reborn will take care of the body when he comes back!”

“Maybe, but Reborn would kill you if you murdered his favorite boyfriend!” Lal protests.

“I’ll be the new favorite significant other!” Viper says, twisting around to stick their tongue out at her.

She holds onto them until they tire themself out, and eventually Colonnello stops laughing for long enough to drape himself across the both of them. Lal fears for her armchair; it may never be the same after having to bear the weight of all three of them.

“Okay,” Viper says finally, sagging backwards against Lal’s chest. “I won’t kill him. But he _is_ going to take me shopping and replace any of the stuff he ruined.”

“You?” Lal asks. “I think you mean he’s going to take _me_ shopping. That’s at least two hundred dollars’ worth of lingerie I need to get back.”

“I’ll take you shopping!” Colonnello volunteers, all too eager. Lal raises an eyebrow. “Or . . . maybe I won’t . . . anyway, you’re both wrong. Skull’s going to break Fon’s bank account first and then he won’t be able to buy anything for anyone else.”

“Uuuugh,” Viper says, tipping their head back, putting even more of their weight onto Lal. Not that she minds. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. Do you think Reborn will spend the big bucks on me?”

“He _always_ spends the big bucks on you, Viper,” Colonnello says.

“It’s only what I deserve,” Viper says smugly, smiling in that self-satisfied way that looks so unfairly good on them.

Ah, fuck it. Lal will deal with the consequences of Fon’s laundry mishaps later, when she actually has to.

“‘Nello, get off us and go find someplace else to sit.”

For now, she has a partner to kiss.

*

Lal’s phone rings while she’s in the kitchen, pouring hot water into a bowl of instant ramen.

“Skull? What’s up?” she says, answering the phone, while Viper gleefully steals her food.

“LAL! HE PUT MY LEATHER CLOTHES IN THE WASHING MACHINE!” Skull shrieks, blasting her eardrums all the way into the atmosphere. “IT WASN’T EVEN DIRTY! HOW DID THAT GET PAST ME!?”

“Are you on the way home?” Lal asks, taking the phone away from her ear in case Skull blows up again.

“It’s all stiff and gross now!” Skull whines. “My favorite skirt! Oh my god, and that jacket you got me . . . ”

“I know, I know,” Lal says sympathetically. “We can replace it.”

Skull sniffles. “Fon already promised to take me shopping. And yeah, we’re almost home. I just . . . ” He makes a sound so full of distress it nearly physically pains Lal. “My _stuff,_ Lal. And . . . yeah. We’re almost home.”

“Okay. Did you want anything else, or did you just need to vent for a bit?” Lal asks.

“No . . . I just wanted to complain. We’re stuck at that one intersection right now so I wanted to make the most of it,” Skull admits.

“All right. See you later,” Lal says, smiling despite herself. She puts the phone down with a small sigh, more out of reflex than in frustration. “Viper.”

“Yeah?”

“Make me another bowl of noodles.”

“Fine . . . ”

*

As soon as Fon walks through the door, he wastes no time in dropping the bags of now-clean (and ruined) clothes onto the floor and sweeping Lal up in a hug she can’t help but reciprocate.

“I hate you,” she mutters into Fon’s chest. “I love you. I hate you.”

“You love me,” Fon says, smiling in a way that makes her want to kiss him silly.

“And I spend every day regretting it,” Lal deadpans.

Viper descends on their clothes like a piranha in a feeding frenzy, throwing things all over the place in an a bid to get to the bottom of the bag, where their now-wrinkled, rumpled and slightly torn silk clothing sits.

They bury their face in their hands, and Skull joins them on the floor, loudly lamenting the loss of his own clothing.

“Oh my god,” Lal says, letting her head fall forward against Fon. “Please tell me you at least left Reborn’s things at home.”

“It’ll be fine,” Fon says, so deceptively reassuring that she nearly believes it. “Nearly all his shirts are pink now, but you never know. He might like it.”

“What!?” Lal yelps, pushing back from him. “Like? He’s going to fucking _explode_! I take back everything I said about you being the favorite boyfriend.”

“Favorite boyfriend?” he asks curiously, while Lal abandons him to rifle through her own damaged clothing.

“ _Yes,_ favorite boyfriend,” Lal says, holding up a tragically deformed bra and pulling a face at Fon. “But I’m not sure how long that title’s going to hold up, once Reborn gets home and sees this disaster.”

Colonnello—who, at some point had emerged from the hallway with a sleepy-looking Verde in tow—eyes Lal’s bra with a look of forlorn longing on his face.

“I’m gonna cry,” he says, slumping over onto Verde. “Fon, look at what you did!”

“Please don’t,” Verde says, fiddling with the button on his pen. He surveys the room, and the mess on the floor (courtesy of Skull and Viper who seem to have turned throwing the clothes out into a contest), with a look of growing disdain. “Every day that passes in this household, I regret not accompanying Reborn on his trip more and more.”

“But we _need_ you at home!” Skull says, jumping up from the floor, only to be met with an off-color shirt to the face.

“No distractions,” Viper says grouchily. “Keep sorting.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to.”

It’s official; Lal has completely lost the thread of this conversation.

“You guys have . . . fun . . . out here,” she says, already feeling yet another headache coming her way, hot on the heels of the one that had only just gone away. “I think I’m going to go take a nap.”

*

Reborn gets home the next day, looking worse-for-wear but uninjured at least. Lal can’t exactly say she _approves_ of Reborn’s occasional jaunts out of town, but it’s better than him being up to the usual anywhere within five miles of their apartment.

Viper, predictably, sidles up to Reborn as soon as his arms are free of any luggage.

“Hey, Reborn,” they say, trying for but failing at nonchalance.

“What do I need to buy?” Reborn asks, already resigned. He attempts to shake them off, to no avail.

“My entire wardrobe. If you’d be so kind,” Viper says, clinging to Reborn like a particularly stubborn barnacle.

“What.”

“Fon happened,” Lal says.

“Snitch!” Fon calls from down the hall.

“Yeah, right! It’d be obvious as soon as Reborn saw his clothes!” Skull yells back, from where he’s lurking by the kitchen doorway.

“My clothes?” Reborn asks mildly. “Did something happen to my clothes?”

“Yeah. I think everyone put their ruined stuff in Verde’s room, if you wanna check out the damage,” Colonnello chimes in.

“I don’t, really,” Reborn says. “ . . . But I will.”

All the occupants of the house (including Verde, who in a rare moment of _not_ being in his room been refilling his mug of coffee, and save for Fon who’s hiding out in Viper’s room) follow him into Verde’s bedroom.

He makes a beeline for the closet, flinging the door open with quite honestly far too much force. His shirts are in a heap on the floor of the closet, faded (the dark ones, which Fon had bleached by accident) and discolored (his few white shirts, which are splotchy pink in places).

Reborn, blank-faced, turns back toward the rest of them.

“Verde. Do you still have that flamethrower we built in freshman year?”

“Yes,” Verde says, frowning. “It’s in storage, but yes.”

“Good. We’re going to need it.”


	5. the colonnello one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some dumbassery at the local grocery store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have not updated in forever iAm so sorry....

Generally, Colonnello likes shopping. But not like this. Never like this.

“Fon said he wanted tofu!” Skull protests, trying again grab at the handle of one of the store’s refrigerators. Reborn’s standing in front of it, arms crossed and smirking nastily. There’s no way Skull was getting at that tofu. Colonnello already knows it. “Reborn, why are you so mean to me?”

“You know why.”

Colonnello feels the sudden, pressing urge to slam his head against the floor until he sees stars. It would be better than watching Reborn make Skull cry in the middle of the fucking grocery store.

“God, I wish Lal were here,” he says, glaring at his boyfriends with all the hatred he can muster. He doesn’t have the energy to even try to mediate the argument. That’s something only Lal can do, and half the time it ends with Skull draped across her and Reborn whining at Colonnello. Which—it’s not like Colonnello _minds,_ but sometimes he gets the feeling he’s never going to win with these two. “She would kick you guys’ asses so hard.”

“I wish Lal were here too,” Skull says. His eyes are slightly shiny and he looks suspiciously on the verge of tears. He’s switched to the tactic of trying to body-slam Reborn out of the way. It isn’t working, and the three of them are beginning to attract stares from other customers. “She would care about what Fon wants.”

“What Fon wants?” Reborn asks, swatting Skull away from him. “What about what I want? Why doesn’t anyone ever ask me what I want for dinner? ‘Oh, Reborn, what would you like to eat today?’ ‘I dunno, I’m kinda feeling like having cannelloni. Anything but _fucking_ mapo tofu again.’”

“So you _are_ just mad because Fon won dinner rights for the entire week!” Skull says accusingly, lifting a hand—and therefore failing his most recent attempt to pull Reborn away from the fridge—to point at Reborn accusingly. “You said you were fine with it yesterday night!”

The moment Reborn opens his mouth to reply, Colonnello decides it’s probably best to get the hell away from these two before they’re kicked out of the store for causing a disturbance. At least he might make it out unscathed, if he manages to avoid them for long enough.

“I’m going to get the rest of the shopping list,” Colonnello says, turning the shopping cart around and beginning to head toward the seasonings and spices aisle. “Reborn, if you wanted something, you should have just said so. Skull, get that tofu. Bye now.”

He isn’t going to make anything Reborn wants, of course, now that Reborn’s resorted to giving him a stress-induced headache in order to get his message across. But it’ll be funny to see the hope fade from Reborn’s face as he goes through the shopping bags and slowly realizes Colonnello hasn’t bought any pasta.

Lal will definitely yell at him later tonight for both riling Reborn up _and_ letting him and Skull get banned from yet another supermarket, but it’ll be so worth it.

As he rounds the corner of the aisle, he hears a loud, wet splash—god, he hopes that’s not a package of tofu hitting the floor—and then, immediately afterward, the sound of Skull yelping reaches his ears.

Colonnello makes the executive decision that it’s best not to wonder, and makes his rounds around the grocery store, checking off items from his list one by one.

Ten or so minutes pass like this. Peaceful, quiet—nearly perfect, save for the sounds his cart wheels make as they squeal along the floor.

At some point he notices that Reborn and Skull seem to be actively roaming around now, as opposed to anchoring themselves near the refrigerated goods section. It quickly becomes a game of cat-and-mouse; his boyfriends are clearly searching for him, arguing all along the way, and Colonnello’s desperately trying to avoid them while maximizing the efficiency of his route around the store.

He loves them. He loves them so, _so_ much. But he cannot deal with trying to focus on getting all the right groceries while simultaneously trying to keep those two in line.

He winces as Skull yells at Reborn for something in the next aisle over, and fervently prays Reborn won’t somehow just _notice_ him. If Colonnello can get his shopping done and get out, fast, without seeing even a hint of either of their faces, he’ll be happy.

Why couldn’t he have gone with Verde instead? That man is a breeze to shop with—he never wants anything extra, never gets lost while Colonnello’s trying to decide on which flavor of ice cream to get, and most of all, he usually helps carry groceries into the house after they get home.

Unfortunately for Colonnello, Verde had vanished early this morning, leaving a note on the table that simply read: “Breaking into prof’s office to steal syllabus. Expect me home around 9:00 P.M.”

Well. You can’t win them all.

Colonnello reaches for a bottle of sesame oil, places it in his cart, and crosses the second-to-last ingredient off his list. The only thing he’s missing is tofu. It stares up at him from the little piece of paper in his hand, taunting him, mocking him for his inability to keep Reborn and Skull under control.

Ugh.

The refrigerated goods aisle is the largest area of the store, and the one where he’s most likely to be spotted, but it’s a risk Colonnello will just have to take. Fon won dinner this week, which basically means he has divine right to take revenge on Colonnello if his order of “mapo tofu, all day every day” is not respected.

To be honest, Colonnello suspects Fon is only doing this to be a little shit. As far as he knows, Fon doesn’t even _like_ mapo tofu that much, to want to genuinely eat it every day of the week. However… Reborn hates the dish, and Fon is petty in the worst of ways.

Slowly, Colonnello pushes his cart out into the open, leaving behind the shelter of the crowded spice aisle. He pauses for a moment, listening for Skull and Reborn, and, hearing nothing but the faint sounds of passerby chatter, deduces them to be somewhere on the opposite side of the store.

He gets the tofu.

He… he gets the tofu?

Finding his way to the checkout counter feels somewhat like coming down from a high. Is Colonnello dreaming? Had he actually made it through a shopping trip without incident? Had Skull and Reborn both decided to leave him the hell alone?

Colonnello begins to unload the groceries from his cart onto the conveyor belt, flashing a quick smile at the cashier.

He considers sending a text to Reborn to let him know he’s checking out, but immediately realizes how terrible of a mistake that would be. Reborn and Skull will probably manage to find some way to get him banned from the grocery store, even at the checkout line. It’s only a hunch, but most of Colonnello’s gut feelings regarding those two turn out to be correct.

This amount of groceries is enough to carry home by himself anyway; it’ll be a little hard to balance everything, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. The sooner he’s out of here and away from his boyfriends, the better. Again, he loves them. But they are an absolute nightmare to go out in public with.

Colonnello is almost done at the checkout line—he’s taking his wallet out to pay—when Reborn and Skull finally catch up to him.

“Lemme go, asshole!”

Colonnello turns his head, slowly, dreading what he’ll see.

“Not until we’re out of here,” Reborn says sweetly.

He’s frog-marching Skull—whose makeup is suspiciously messy—toward the automatic doors at the entrance of the store. Colonnello notes that neither of them seem to have any tofu, meaning Skull had failed the task Colonnello gave him. It’d been a long shot anyway. Colonnello’s glad he’d decided to grab some by himself.

“But we haven’t even found—oh my god! Oh my god, hey! Colonnello! Help me!” Skull calls out. He redoubles his efforts to escape Reborn’s grasp. “Help! Reborn said I—”

Colonnello pointedly looks away, meeting the eyes of the cashier and trying to appear as normal as possible despite Skull’s increasingly loud requests for Colonnello’s aid.

“Cash or c—…”

The cashier trails off as Colonnello shoves a few bills at them.

Colonnello keeps the pleasant smile on his face until he gets his change, picks up his bags, and exits the supermarket. As soon as he sees Skull and Reborn standing outside the doors, he lets his expression drop into an exasperated scowl.

“I don’t think they want us in there anymore,” Skull says, sounding far too happy for someone who just had to be forced outside with all his limbs pinned so he couldn’t get away. “Anyway, I’m super hungry! Let’s get going.”

Colonnello closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and slowly lets it back out. Then he makes the mistake of looking at Reborn and has to do it all over again.

He dumps his armful of grocery bags onto his boyfriends.

“Shut up, you deserve this,” he says, glaring while Skull pretends his knees have buckled from the strain of carrying the weight. “Reborn, stop kicking him or you’re not even in the running for dinner rights next week.”

Reborn wisely stops kicking Skull.

“Thank you,” Colonnello says. He yawns, stretching his arms over his head—his empty arms, which are completely free of any heavy groceries—just to make a point. “Now let’s get home, or else Viper will have demolished our entire supply of cup noodles.”


	6. blanket forts, featuring slight emotional vulnerability (thanks, reborn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Blame Reborn!” Skull says, planting a kiss on Lal’s collarbone. The corner of her mouth twitches upwards. “He got jealous we didn’t let him in and jumped right in the middle of it. He’s a monster!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. it's been a while, huh,

When Lal gets home from work on Friday, Colonnello and Skull have already built up a fairly shoddy blanket fort, constructed out of a few large comforters laid across the sofa and chairs, weighed down by stacks of books that never see any other purpose. She can hear them giggling to each other underneath it like a pair of schoolgirls. Occasionally, she catches an intelligible snippet of dialogue; the closer she gets to them, the clearer their conversation becomes.

“Gossiping, are we?” Lal asks, folding back a flap of blanket to peek inside. “What’s the hot topic tonight?”

Skull shrieks in surprise, flailing and dislodging himself from Colonnello’s lap. With a particularly wide swing of his arm, he nearly takes out the laptop situated in front of them, causing Colonnello to scowl and pull him backwards.

Skull’s recovery is near-instantaneous; he brightens up, smiling like the sun. He disentangles himself from ‘Nello and crawls over to the opening Lal made in the fort.

“I’m going to have to fix this, aren’t I?” Lal comments, while Skull reaches up with both arms to wrap her in a hug. He ends up hanging off her neck, clinging to her with both arms. Lal considers griping just for the hell of it, but manages to hold off. After all, she’s kind of enjoying this—especially the look on Skull’s face while she effortlessly holds up his weight. “Look, I opened one little corner and the whole thing’s about to collapse.”

“Blame Reborn!” Skull says, planting a kiss on Lal’s collarbone. The corner of her mouth twitches upwards. “He got jealous we didn’t let him in and jumped right in the middle of it. He’s a _monster!_ ”

“An absolute beast. Where is he?” Lal asks, gently prying Skull off of her. For god’s sake, she hasn’t even taken off her work shoes. He’s _not_ getting her in here before she’s good and ready. “Want me to knock him over the head for you?”

“No. We already lost,” Skull says, pointing to the far corner of the fort. Lal squints, and sure enough, there’s a vaguely Reborn-shaped blanket burrito slumped over, facing away from the rest of them.

“Is…”

“He’s fine,” Colonnello chimes in, scooting over to snatch Skull away from her. “Just sulking.”

“I’m _not_ sulking. I’m pondering,” Reborn clarifies.

“He’s sulking.”

“You’re sulking,” Lal affirms, withdrawing from the blanket fort. Skull makes a noise of discontent, reaching out towards her, but she shakes her head. “Skull, I just got home.”

“And?” he asks, crawling away from Colonnello to untie her shoelace.

Lal swats him with her purse. “And I need to get changed. And go to the bathroom. And shower. And have dinner. _So_ many things.”

“There’s ramen in here!” he tries. “Eat that!”

“ _Why is there ramen in there._ ”

“Uh—I—Viper’s fault!” Skull says quickly, diving out of sight.

Colonnello takes his place, sticking his head out of the blanket fort. “He’s lying. Viper isn’t even home—they left on a date with Fon and Luce about an hour ago.”

“Hmm… good to know,” Lal notes. “Well, that’s almost all of us accounted for. Where’s Verde? In his room?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll swing by and say hello to him, then,” Lal decides. “Think you three can survive without me for half an hour?”

“I dunno,” Colonnello says doubtfully, at the same time as Skull calls out, “Yup! We haven’t even started the movie yet!”

With that, Lal takes her (temporary) leave.

She returns to the hallway in front of the door, quickly toes off her sneakers, throws her keys into the key bowl, and scrutinizes a hastily-scribbled note plastered to the wall that she hadn’t noticed before.

_TO LAL: BE BACK BY NINE. ON A DATE WITH VIPER & FON. SKULL OR ‘NELLO SHOULD TELL YOU BUT THOUGHT I’D WRITE IT DOWN JUST IN CASE. LOVE YOU. —LUCE_

Lal smiles. When she first got to know Luce, the other woman’s habit of writing in all-caps had made it difficult to read her handwriting, but over time she’s adapted and even grown fond of the peculiar writing style.

After that, she briefly checks in on Verde—he’s tangled up in some robotics project, wires strewn across his bed in what looks like a mess to her but probably makes perfect sense to him. There’s a disassembled Rubik’s cube scattered about his feet, and a stress ball that looks as if he had ripped it in half sits forlornly on his currently unoccupied desk.

All in all, nothing out of the ordinary. This mess, the general air of frantic productivity, is quintessentially Verde.

She doesn’t want to break his concentration, so she quietly slips out of his room and heads to her own.

Maybe it’s because she’s excited to spend time with her partners, or because she’s been on her feet all day and just wants to sit down as quickly as possible, but whatever the reason, Lal rushes through her nightly routine. It only takes about twenty minutes instead of the predicted thirty for her to be out in the living room again, towel slung loosely around her shoulders, hair still damp and slightly chilled from the shower.

She scarfs down a bowl of egg salad that ‘Nello must have made earlier in the day (it hadn’t been there when she’d left for work) and throws her empty dish in the sink so hard she’s afraid for a second that it might shatter. Luckily, it stays intact. From there, Lal tosses her towel onto the back of the couch—she’ll clean it up tomorrow—and crawls into the blanket fort.

She’s met by a delighted gasp from Skull, a laugh and an arm slung around her waist from ‘Nello, and a grunt from Reborn.

Lal settles in right between Skull and ‘Nello, sighing as her sore feet cry out in relief. Reborn’s blanket burrito is close enough that she can reach out and kick him a bit if she feels like it…

…Which she absolutely does.

After about five seconds of non-stop prodding, Reborn rolls over to face her, expression stormy. “You’re interrupting my pondering!”

“Sulking,” Lal corrects loftily. “I’m interrupting your sulking. What even prompted this?”

“She sees right through you,” Skull sing-songs.

“Don’t pay any attention to—”

“It should be Lal and Colonnello and Skull _and Reborn_ Friday Night Blanket Forts,” Reborn interrupts, prompting ‘Nello to give him an unimpressed look. “You need me. I’m the best at building forts.”

“Explain this, then,” Skull challenges, gesturing around them at the fort that looks like it’ll collapse any moment now.

Reborn scoffs. “You tried to ban me. You deserve an ugly blanket fort. And I didn’t even help with this one.”

“You crash Friday Night Blanket Forts every week anyways,” Lal says. “At this point, the ‘ _and Reborn’_ is kind of understood.”

Reborn looks pleased at that, but immediately tries to cover the expression with a haughty one. “Well—anyways. Are we going to get this movie started, or what?”

“Or what,” Skull mutters, as Reborn crawls out of his blanket to drape himself across the three of their laps. Lal rolls her eyes, but indulgently reaches out to run her hand through his hair a couple times.

‘Nello sets the laptop onto Reborn’s back, garnering a few half-hearted complaints but no real resistance, and hits play on the movie.

It’s some shitty rom-com Lal’s sure she’s seen a million times before. Honestly, she thinks they probably watched this last week. But that’s fine—Friday nights are more about the company anyways, about the comforting press of Skull and ‘Nello at her sides, their hands in hers, and Reborn’s familiar weight atop her (since he always insists on being a burden in _some_ way or another).

They steal kisses during particularly boring moments, losing first seconds and then minutes because they’d all rather focus on each other.

Eventually the movie (and ‘Nello’s laptop) are left by the wayside, forgotten after Reborn sits up and starts tickling Skull. Lal is recruited to help stop Reborn’s reign of terror, and to even things out, Colonnello betrays her and goes for the ultimate weakness—her ribs.

She’s reduced to breathless, giggly tears—it’s hard to tell which way is up or down and whose limbs are hers or theirs when she’s so thoroughly tangled up with her boyfriends.

At some point, Luce, Viper, and Fon get home and crash their little party.

“We’re running out of room in here,” Lal observes dryly.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Fon, whose legs are sticking out the entrance, says. “It’s cozy in here.”

“Ugh, you idiot, get over here,” Viper says, grabbing Fon by the arm and dragging him into the corner to curl up with them. “What are we even watching?”

As Lal cranes her neck to peep at the laptop screen, Reborn squishes himself up against her, evidently miffed he’s no longer the center of attention. She instinctively wraps an arm around him and tugs him closer, enjoying (and equally annoyed by) his smug face.

“We _were_ watching ‘Three Ways to Get a Date,’” she informs. “But we only made it about halfway through before we forgot it existed.”

“Oh, this movie!” Luce butts in, crawling across three different people to get at ‘Nello’s laptop. “My mom likes it. She wanted to watch it with me sometime. Is it any good?”

“Eh,” Reborn says, waving his hand in a so-so motion. “Maybe the first time. Gets old when you’re forced to see it every week.”

“Don’t you _dare_ insult my favorite movie!” Skull exclaims, coming out of the woodwork to tackle Reborn. The two of them roll away from Lal, crashing directly into ‘Nello, who takes it with (relative) grace.

“So, _that’s_ his favorite movie,” Fon says, nodding wisely. “Finally, the elusive truth.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think that was bullshit,” Lal says. She pauses, tilting her head as Fon deflates. “Anyone hear that?”

“Sounds like Verde trying to be sneaky,” ‘Nello deduces. “Want me to drag him in here too?”

“Will you?” Luce asks, looking at him with pleading eyes. “It’s not the same without all of us.”

Secretly, Lal thinks the fort can’t handle yet another person, especially one as tall as Verde—but they can always rebuild… and she doesn’t terribly mind if the whole thing comes crashing down.

Verde is summarily forced to abandon his endeavor of getting his third energy drink of the night out of the fridge, and reluctantly joins their chaotic mess of a cuddle pile after scrunching up his empty can and chucking it in the recycling bin.

“I was being productive,” he mourns, though his expression belies his true feelings. He’s absorbed into Skull’s growing cuddle pile, now consisting of himself, Reborn, ‘Nello, Verde, and Viper (who they must have abducted at some point, because they’re at the very top of the pile looking grumpy as hell but fond nonetheless).

The night ends with the eight of them in a heap inside the blanket fort. One corner is sagging heavily—surprisingly, the majority of the structure is still intact—and ‘Nello is out cold, hands wrapped around Lal’s leg like she’s a human long pillow. Skull is still winding down from the excitement but looks as though he’ll pass out at any second, Viper and Verde are wrapped up together in a single blanket while Luce snoozes peacefully beside them, and Fon is at Lal’s other side, pressed up against Colonnello.

Reborn and Lal are the only ones still awake; they lie with their heads close together, Lal’s fingers idly playing with the end of Reborn’s sleeve.

“It’s rare that all of us are free on Friday nights,” Lal murmurs softly. “I like it when everyone gets the chance to spend time together like this. I wish we could do it every week.”

“Mm. I don’t,” Reborn says frankly. “I’d die of stress.”

“Buzzkill,” Lal laughs, tweaking the end of his nose and grinning when he shoots her an indignant look. “ _And_ hypocrite. You know you’re literally the one who causes the most stress out of all of us, right?”

“Am I?” Reborn says, blinking wide eyes innocently, conveniently not making eye contact with her.

“Oh, shut up,” Lal says, huffing out another breathy laugh.

“Buy my silence.”

Lal doesn’t quite do that, but she does kiss Reborn until he’s lost for words, then just a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, comments strengthen me... leave enough and i might achieve immortality


End file.
